Requiescat
by Kazie Solo
Summary: {Updated 10-27} When Kyousuke finds the path to a destiny he cannot even comprehend, he turns to Kuroudo for help, not knowing that in a world teeming with anger, hatred, greed, betrayal and vengeance, his best friend may very well be his worst enemy.
1. Prelude

_Destiny is not a matter of chance, it is a matter of choice;  
it is not a thing to be waited for, it is a thing to be achieved.  
- William Jennings Bryan_  
  
  
  
  
  
**Prelude**

  
  
  
  
  
  
Just like every morning, Jin Kyousuke arrived in the campus with a scowl that was meant to drive everyone away. He disliked mingling with people, most especially those he didn't know yet forced their way to him because of his popularity and stature as a Gear Master. Although he wasn't very much of a chick-magnet compared to his best friend, the campus heartthrob Marume Kuroudo, a handful of annoying, Gear-Fighting-ignorant girls found his appearance as well as his intellect rather cute. He was a boy small for his age, dark eyes framed with round spectacles and untidy black hair always hidden under a not-very-fashionable red bandanna. He still didn't understand what was so cute about the way he looked.  
  
It only took him one glance at his wristwatch to conclude that his best friend was going to be late – _again_. But saving the blonde's skin had always been his job, right from the time they forged a relationship as best of friends, so he headed towards his locker to do just that. After punching the appropriate number code that opened the cubbyhole, he took out two discs and shoved them inside his pocket. They had been given an assignment in their Information Technology class, and as always, he made two: one for him, and one for Kuroudo. After all, while his best friend was remarkable in sports, _kendo_ for instance, he was not very good when it came to computer wizardry like programming.  
  
Kuroudo never knew of his double tasking, of course. The blonde had always believed that it was out of his own efforts that he earned A's in their assignments and projects, not realizing that Kyousuke would replace his disc with his own whenever their works were due. Their IT teacher always asked them to submit their creations by column, and with Kyousuke sitting in front of his best friend, switching Kuroudo's homework with the one he had made for him was no problem at all.  
  
He shut his locker and turned around to leave, only to come face-to-face with three familiar-looking boys. _Great_, he thought, rolling his eyes. Towering in front of him were the idiots he had come to loathe during the grand rivalry between the Tobita Club and the Manganji Team, which only recently came to an end at the World Cup Championships. Despite that fact, he still disliked the three to a great extent, being the senseless fools they were.  
  
"Hey, _Gear Master_," the one named Ryouichi Ebata greeted. He was the scrawny, hot-tempered advertiser of the Manganji Team who happened to enjoy kissing their captain Manganji Takeshi's feet. The last time he charged into the Tobita Club to bring honor to his team, he ended up humiliating himself by proving how much of a loser he was, having been defeated by Marino Kouya, the other team's captain, and the current World Champion. It was obvious, judging from the sarcastic tone of his voice, that he didn't like Kyousuke either, or anyone else from the Tobita Club, for that matter. "How about if we have that extra disc of yours? We're friends, aren't we?"  
  
"I'm telling you, this isn't a good idea, Ebata," Fujiruna Momita whispered nervously. He was the plump, rather sentimental follower of Takeshi who the latter had asked to return to the Tobita Club, where they both originally were from, but since his boss hadn't stepped foot in his old clubhouse yet, he hadn't done so either. With Marino Yuhya, the World Champion's deceased older brother and the first captain of the said team, out of the picture, his loyalty lay on the person he believed to be the rightful successor. And that was Takeshi.  
  
"Shut up, Momita!" Hitotsu Gomano, the last member of the trio, hissed, glaring at his companion, who happened to look a look tougher than he was, as he was lanky compared to the other. He, like Momita, believed that Takeshi was the rightful heir to Yuhya's position as the captain of the Tobita Club, and so followed him in his fallout and his then second ascension as the star of the Manganji Team.  
  
Ebata threw another glare at both of them before he turned back to the spectacled student and grinned as if nothing happened at all. "As I was saying, Jin, I'd like to have that extra disc. I promise that if you'll hand that over, we won't bother you for one full month. And even if Takeshi does choose to return to your dear little club within thirty days, we won't dare go near your clubhouse. All that privilege and comfort for that disc. What do you say?"  
  
A humorless laugh, which the young genius was known for, left him, and then he forced his way through their formation, totally ignoring them and their silly request. He wasn't going to fall for the idiots' tricks, nor would he take their stupid compromises seriously. And he didn't care if they were going to bother him, because the only time they would be able to when he was alone – and he wouldn't be alone anymore, as his comrades at the Tobita Club who the idiots were so afraid of were going to show up anytime soon. And the most they could do was annoy him. It wasn't much of a problem at all.  
  
He felt a hand grip his shoulder firmly, and Ebata, who had refused to give up, spun him around for them to come face-to-face once more. He looked into the other's seething features and laughed humorlessly once more. "You don't get it, do you?" he asked, a mischievous gleam in his dark-hued eyes. Those words provoked the bigger boy to lift him by his shirt, but he only continued to taunt him and his friends. "Go on, go on. Go on with what you're doing. I don't care. It would be a delight to see you flunk this subject and take it all over again during the summer."  
  
"Why you-"  
  
"And even if I'd give you the disc, you still wouldn't be able to pass. Why? Because you're nothing but a bunch of idiots, mindlessly following Takeshi's orders and kissing his feet while you're at it. You think you're so great, being his cronies and being able to stand by his side while the television cameras zoom in on him, but in reality, you're zeros, do you hear me? You're just three big-headed losers who can't even win a Gear Fighting match against a no-"  
  
He wasn't able to continue. Unable to take his insults any longer, Ebata punched him as hard as he could on the face, knocking him halfway across the corridor. The impact sent the smaller boy sprawling on the floor, his eyeglasses flying a good distance away. He had barely recovered from the head-splitting blow when he felt himself being lifted from the floor once more, and then pain jolted through his body as his opponent slammed him into the row of lockers at the opposite end, not holding anything back.  
  
He lifted his head to look at what was going on, and all he saw was a blur. Then, he felt another excruciating blow on his face. As Ebata's fist rammed into his face over and over, his other senses began to join his sight, failing him. Soon, he could no longer hear Gomano and Momita's protests, or the cheering of the crowd… nor could he taste the blood that was trickling from his mouth, or feel his opponent's punches, as his entire body plunged deeper and deeper into the state of numbness.  
  
_No!_ His mind was screaming. _You have to fight!_  
  
And then the strangest thing happened. He felt something heavy leave him, though he couldn't tell what that something was, and not another blow struck his face afterwards. The observing students, some of them chanting and cheering for his demise at the bully's hands, suddenly fell silent, almost as if they were no longer there. He willed his eyes to open, gathering his remaining strength for that move, and what met his gaze was Ebata's shocked, terrified one from the opposite end of the corridor. He didn't know how the other boy could have ended there, but by looking at his posture and the expression on his face, he knew that he had somehow managed to knock him towards the other row of lockers – and rather painfully, at that.  
  
He felt the last ounce of his strength dissipate into thin air, leaving him, and despite the fact that he didn't want to release his hold on his consciousness, he decided to give in anyway and allowed his eyes to flutter close as he slowly retreated into the realm of nothingness. There was no way he could fight back now; his will to fight alone was unfortunately insufficient. Before the darkness completely enveloped him and took him into its world, however, he vaguely but recognizably saw the three idiots run away from the battlefield with some other frightened students, while the disbelief-filled crowd parted, permitting a blonde-haired young man who was calling out his name to make his way through…  
  
  
  
  
  


* * *

**Author's Notes:** Well, there you have it; the introductory installment of my CGT/DBZ crossover. I hope you liked it. Anyway, first off I would like to publicly thank Miss Lous for patiently helping me with this project, even if she hasn't seen a single CGT episode. She's not only assisting in the brainstorming side, she's making the lovely artwork for this, too. Yay!  
  
Second, I only made up the last names of Momita and Gomano. I might've missed it, but I don't remember their last names being mentioned in the series. And, as you might've notice or will notice as the story progresses, I'm writing their names as they're supposed to be. That means you'll see 'Ririka' instead of 'Lilika', and some others. If I commit mistakes in terms of the names, please do let me know.  
  
That's it for now; if you have any questions, comments, suggestions and the like, please leave a review. And if you don't have any questions, comments, suggestions and the like, still, please leave a review. Reviews make my day. *hint* *hint* 


	2. One

**One**

He wasn't home alone, that Manganji Takeshi realized, as soon as he arrived in the dining room to help himself with a glass of water. It was rather peculiar to find his parents sitting comfortably in the living room at eight o'clock in the morning, to say the least, as they were true-blue workaholics who would leave for work early and arrive home late. He, wearing only a pair of jogging pants with a towel slung over his shoulder, was about to join them in whatever they were doing, when he noticed that they had a guest --- a tall, elderly, intelligent-looking man in glasses.

Before he could return to his room to change into something more decent than a pair of trousers, however, his mother excused herself from her male companions, got up, and rushed over to him. "Good morning, dear. Do you _always_ dress like that when you come down for breakfast?" she greeted, leaning forward to give him a peck on the cheek.

"I was just about to change-" he began defensively, abashed at his mother's reaction and the fact that she had gushed over him like he was a baby, but she cut him off by calling for one of their maids to bring out one of his shirts. He could only sigh as she went on to order the cook to whip up a fancy breakfast for him, being as meticulous with her instructions as ever. "Mom, it's okay, really. I'm not hungry and I'm going to be-"

"Nonsense. If there's anyone you can't lie to, that's me, darling. I'm your mother. Now, you are going to eat and… oh, thank you, Kiiro." She nodded at the maid in dismissal, then began to slip the shirt into her son's bare torso.

Takeshi could not help but wince, not caring if his mother would see his expression and scold him for it. First off, the shirt she was making him wear was the one he swore he never would. It was the one she had gotten him for his birthday, and it had a large teddy bear in the middle. He hated teddy bears. And, to top it off, its color was green. He loathed green, and only his best friend Tobita Ririka looked good in green. Second, the way she was treating him was simply intolerable. He was eighteen, an international Gear Fighting celebrity, and an entrepreneur-in-training, the next CEO of the Manganji Engineering Group, and there was his mother, fussing over him as if he was some helpless kid.

She noticed the look, alright. "Now, don't be ungrateful, dear. This is for your own good. But while your meal's being prepared, why don't you join your father in the living room and help him pick something for his collection? Mr. Isuji brought lots of very pretty artifacts, I can't even decide which one I want. Maybe you'll even find one you'd like to have."

The suggestion wasn't very appealing, as he didn't like antique stuff as much as his parents did, but it was the only way to escape the clutches of his still-gushing mother, even if it meant showing up in front of their visitor with a green teddy shirt. As he trudged towards the living room, he suddenly understood why they were home. Of course. Isuji Arusu, a family friend, was an artifact dealer, and his obsessed parents were determined to purchase something before going off to their offices. And while relics of such caliber and age were extremely expensive, his family, the richest in all of Japan, had more than enough money to maintain an impressive collection. To prove that fact was his 80 billion yen Crush Gear, _Gaiki_.

"Ah, Takeshi. Glad you could join us. Your father's having a particularly hard time selecting which one he should add to his growing collection, and I think you'll be able to help him out." Arusu allowed a toothy smile as the young man settled beside his father, who also greeted him at his arrival. The merchant's smile lingered just a moment longer. "That's a nice shirt you got there."

Takeshi rolled his eyes and leaned back against the cushioned seat, running his hand through his ungelled black hair. Mr. Isuji was one of their friendlier acquaintances, and while he appreciated how he had been welcomed, he certainly didn't like the comment about his shirt. It only made him even more uncomfortable than he already was. "Where were these discovered, Isuji-san?" he asked, scanning the relics that were laid on the table in front of them one by one. Most of the objects for sale were made of gold, and gold was something he fancied.

Taking a necklace from the pile, the other answered, "Remember the meteor that crashed in Yokosuka? This was found buried somewhere in the crater it created, and as you can see it's a very beautiful piece of jewelry. It was believed to be a part of a bigger set, so a search was conducted to check if there were more. And indeed, there were more. In fact, the site had much more to offer than priceless jewels." He looked at the young man's deep brown eyes, fueling the sudden interest that had taken over him. "Information. Historical information. I've been there, and I've seen the artifacts the scientists hauled into their labs for investigation. And there's even this rumor that there's some sort of ancient temple deep down the crater…"

The youth's father let out a laugh. "Now, now, Arusu, don't get my son into that, or else I'll lose another 80 billion at another one of those grand projects of his. Not that I mind, of course, but for an eighteen-year-old to spend that much?" He laughed again, his friend joining him, and then turned to look at his son, who was staring at something among the heap of relics, almost as if he was entranced.

"How much is this?" Takeshi suddenly asked, taking a necklace from the pile and showing it to the merchant. It had, by far, the simplest design; it had a thin gold chain with a small, green-hued stone – an emerald, maybe? – for a pendant. He had seen better ones, and they were certainly much newer and in more affordable prices, but for some reason he just could not stop looking at it. Part of him believed that it was somehow calling out to him, but a greater part insisted that it was nothing extraordinary; he liked it simply because he knew it would look perfect on Ririka.

"Takeshi, honey, breakfast is ready. Come on, you don't want it to grow cold," his mother interrupted, going into the living room to accompany her only son for breakfast. Before completely leading him away – much to her surprise and wonder, he did not complain or resist this time – she turned to look at her husband and told him to get that necklace for their little boy, and that it was better than letting him waste another 80 billion by playing with cars.

"I think he wants to give it to his girlfriend," she finished in a whisper, winking.

-**x**-

"-thing that has transpired between us, but you have to admit that he's the best option we've got. Kyousuke even said..."

He stirred as his name was mentioned by a familiar voice in a hushed, controlled tone, the outside world seemingly connecting into his subconsciousness that had been hovering in the darkness for quite sometime. A few hours, maybe, but then again who was he to tell? As soon as he let out a groan, apparently breaking the spell of sleep and throwing him back into the realm of reality and pain, he felt the ripples around him disappear for a short moment in silent anticipation. "My head," he whimpered, struggling to sit up but was gently guided back into the comfortable pillows. Despite his still-blurry vision, he knew that those arms belonged to his best friend. His hand immediately shot up to the side of his head in reflex, and wincing, he finished, "I'm okay now. I think."

His comrades were unconvinced, most especially the blonde-haired member of their quartet. Marume Kuroudo knew him well enough to be able to tell when he'd be lying, and at that certain moment, when silence was at its peak, he saw the Gear Fighter raise a flaxen eyebrow. It was his cue to confess. "Okay, I'm not. Satisfied?" He couldn't help but cringe as another flash of pain seemed to tear his skull open. Maybe he should stop talking and sleep the rest of the day.

"But you know, for one who'd just been beaten up by bullies, you're in pretty good shape," Marino Kouya, the captain of their Gear Fighting team, commented as he bent forward to take a closer look at the injured lad, the concern in his brown eyes evident. He was only sixteen years old and a freshman in Hitotsubashi High, but barely two months ago, he had grabbed the title of Crush Gear World Champion and received the corresponding glory and fame that came with it in the package. It got into his head, of course; they had all expected that. But not one of his showing-off bouts ever lasted long, because their fiery team manager, Hanano Kaoru, had almost always been by his side, ready to whack him with whatever she was holding if the need would arise.

"Yeah, tell me about it. If _I_ get into a brawl, I'd have so much more than a black eye. But then again, my opponents would get even worse injuries. Do you think I'll let them get away if they did that to me?" At those words, Oriza Jirou let out a hearty laugh, and Kouya joined him in his laughing fit soon after. He was the largest among the four, yes, and also the most violent, but deep inside, the ex-baseball pitcher had a soft spot. He was the kind of person who valued friendship to a great extent, and one who would never allow his friends be hurt or insulted, in any way. He'd retaliate without hesitation, striking hard and true. Cracking his knuckles and smirking at the spectacled boy who had been a good friend despite his aloof demeanor, he asked, "Would you like me to go after those three? Just say the word, Gear Master, and I'll go remind them that if they mess with a member of the Tobita Club, they mess with all of us. And they really _shouldn't_."

Kuroudo then interjected calmly, "There's no need, Jirou." Being the most levelheaded and rule abiding among the four Gear Fighters, he had been anticipated to spoil the fun, and his friends were just waiting him to say something about how the school administration had taken care of the bullies, just like how the rules go. But to their surprise --- even Kyousuke didn't see it coming --- the blonde let out a roguish smile, one that he rarely sported. "I already took care of them," he announced, shifting to a more comfortable position at the foot of bed. He then shrugged as the others continued to gape at him in astonishment and disbelief. "What did you think? I'd just sit around and allow them to get away with what they did?"

"You should have told us!" the brown-haired freshman protested. "I wanted to see you give those stooges some thwapping!"

"Thwapping? No, not that. I didn't have my _kojiki_ then. And even if I did, I wouldn't have used it. I don't want to get suspended for picking a fight, thank you. I just… well, threatened them that if they won't go to the principal's office to confess their wrongdoing and be punished accordingly, I'm going to make sure they're going to be limping on their way home. They didn't like the price they'd have to pay if they'd attempt to get away with their bullying, and so they agreed to see the principal. And they got suspended."

"Wait. You just said that you don't want to get suspended for picking a fight, but you threatened to do so if they won't go see the principal." The expression on Jirou's face wasn't very clear; it seemed to be a cross between a frown and an excited grin. "What if Ebata didn't give in to your threat, and he challenged you instead? You'd let us fight him in your place, then?"

He smirked, a mischievous glimmer leaking through the corners of his Mediterranean blue eyes. "Oh, no. You got it all wrong. I'm going to get suspended if I pick a fight _inside the campus_. But if by fate's loving hand I run into them on my way home from practice..." He intentionally left his sentence unfinished, knowing that they would understand what he wanted to tell them in no time, and indeed, they did. In no time, Kouya was on his feet, saluting the blonde for his brilliance, and at the same time, complaining that he should've just gone ahead and done that instead of blackmailed the idiots to accept suspension. Jirou, on the other hand, went on another laughing fit as he imagined Kuroudo poking the bullies with a wooden stick until their fear sensors would register _pokiphobia_, and because they were making too much noise in the medical wing, the school nurse came marching in, clearly annoyed, and sent the three of them off.

"Yay. Go Kuroudo." It may not have been an eye for an eye, but for Kyousuke, it was the thought that counted.

---

**Author's Notes: **I apologize for the delay, everyone. I had to make revisions for this chapter, and that took quite a while to accomplish. Anyway, I would like to thank everyone who reviewed, for your nice comments and support. I really appreciate it. Rest assured that even though I'm busy with schoolwork now, I'll do everything I can to come up with an update once in a while. Thanks again, guys!

PS. For the teddy bear art, please see my fanfic blog - livejournal[dot]com[slash]users[slash]kuroudo - and comment if you wish. You may also state your requests, suggestions, questions, and well, anything you want to say regarding my fics. =)


	3. Two

**Two **

For Kuroudo, Literature was one of the most interesting subjects to grace his life as a student, and that he was thankful for. Unfortunately, its schedule was right after lunch, and at such an unholy hour, even enthusiasts like him would have the tendency to drift off into excessive boredom – or in some cases, sleep – once in a while. While their teacher, a middle-aged father of two named Shiawase Heike, tolerated such behavior in his class, one's fate in his exams depended on how much one would pay attention to his discussion. He relied not on books or the information stated within their texts, as he believed memorizing such insignificant data were futile; instead, he focused on the background of the references and the implications of what had been written there.

"Alright, class, get your books and start reading _The Cask of Amontillado_ by Edgar Allan Poe, while I take the roll. I advise you to read it carefully because I will be asking questions later, and those who can answer me without looking at the text will earn extra credit," Mr. Shiawase instructed as he sat down and began rummaging through his drawer for his class record. When he finally found it, he stood back up and called the students one by one for their attendance.

Shichigawa Kazuya, one of Kuroudo's subordinates back when he was the captain of his former Gear Fighting team Griffon Japan, sat beside the blonde on the left side. He was a tall, well-built teenager, and one of their brightest students in their section, academically speaking. He seemed to be engrossed with the story, not paying attention to the attendance check as he was one of those who would be called last, but when their teacher turned away from his direction, he quickly slipped a piece of paper on the other's desk. He then went back to 'reading' the text, but was, in actuality, waiting for his seatmate's response.

_I called Mitsuki to check up on him, but Yukina said he hasn't come home since yesterday afternoon, after practice. It's not like him to disappear just like that, Kuro. And I'm sure he didn't run away, because he's not that kind of person. What I fear is that he's not the first Gear Fighter to go missing. The other day, Ohkawa Kishin did, too._

"Jin! Oh, right, he's excused… Marume!"

The blonde flinched as he was called. Quickly, he affirmed, "Present!" before nodding at his teacher, whose gaze lingered on him for a few seconds, as if analyzing how come his response hadn't been automatic like usual. He then looked away and picked up his pen to answer Kazuya's disturbing message, leaving his book unattended as he had already read the story beforehand. As Mr. Shiawase called, "Ohmori!" and dead silence filled the air, a chill ran down his spine. Mitsuki, who took over Griffon as captain when he left the team almost two years ago, was definitely not a delinquent.

The last sentence startled him even more. Kishin – captain of the Mighty Gears, the Gear Fighting team that flattened the Tobita Club during the Manganji Cup exhibition round – came from an aristocratic family, one of chess masters and champions. He was one of the most watched over teenagers in Japan, as he was a chess prodigy in his own right, with bodyguards to protect him from every danger and servants to obey his every command. But how could he have disappeared? Kidnapped, perhaps? Still, how could that have possibly happened? And if he was really kidnapped, why?

He asked Kazuya for the details.

_Hiroshi told me, he unintentionally overheard Takeshi talk to someone about it over the phone during lunch. The thing is, no ransom was asked, nor were Kishin's parents contacted. I suspect this is some sort of conspiracy. The Tokyo Open is next week, and that's the first major tournament that will generate sub-points for the Asia Cup as well as a generous amount of money. Some team must want an easy climb to victory._

Kuroudo frowned. It made sense, but not quite.

Presuming that it was indeed a plot of some Gear Fighting team to win the Tokyo Open without breaking a sweat, why resort to kidnapping? A team could still compete even if their captain's not around, as long as they'd have a substitute fourth player. And there were other more clever ways to achieve victory the underground way without the danger of being arrested and imprisoned for some heinous crime, like sabotaging other's Gears or blackmailing the most threatening players. Not that those acts wouldn't get punished by the Gear Fighting Association, of course, but the consequences wouldn't be too much for the players at fault to handle.

And why kidnap Kishin? It was reasonable to take Mitsuki, as Griffon was one of the more formidable teams – though not as much as the Tobita Club or the Manganji Dreams, whose players had been achievers during the World Cup, himself included – but the members of the Mighty Gears had parted ways months ago, realizing that they were better off in other fields rather than in Gear Fighting, even if they had the skill, and very remarkable Gears to complement that. The team was no longer a threat to anyone.

He didn't know what else to say to Kazuya, or what to do about Mitsuki's disappearance, for that matter. All he knew was that he and his friends had to be careful; Gear Fighting conspiracy or not, something was really going on, and it wasn't good.

-**x**-

Takeshi was the first to arrive at the Tobita Club's headquarters, and he was in a good mood, despite the fact that his mother had gushed over him during breakfast and that he was forced to wear the cursed green teddy bear shirt in front of a guest. Their class adviser and first period teacher had been asked to represent their school for a seminar, so their morning classes had been cancelled, and, like a bonus, their last period teacher fell ill and dismissed the class as soon as she finished checking their attendance. He only had three subjects for the day, and he didn't have any exams to worry about.

But as soon as he stepped in the place that had once been his second home, his good mood suddenly vanished and was replaced by anxiety and discomfort. So much had changed, not only with the clubhouse's interior, but also with the atmosphere itself. On display were twice as many trophies as there had been during his time. And while the poster of Marino Yuhya – the first Asia Cup Champion who was, unfortunately, killed in a car accident in Brazil – remained pinned to the wall, beside it was a larger one of his younger brother and successor, Kouya, and his teammates, all of them great players in their own right. Kouya was the World Cup Champion. Kuroudo and Jirou were both finalists; the blonde was only a step away from the championship when he lost, while the latter lasted until the quarter finals. And while Kyousuke was the first to be eliminated among the four, he was, no doubt, a genius Gear Master.

_What am I doing here?_ he suddenly found himself asking.

"Hey, you're early."

He spun around and found Ririka closing the door of her office, and as soon as his brown eyes met her green ones, he flashed her a welcoming smile, one which she gladly returned. He couldn't hold it for long, though, and shortly after dropping it, he sighed heavily. "And the prodigal son has finally come home." He then turned away, refusing to give her the opportunity to look into his eyes once more. "I… I don't belong here anymore, Ririka."

Ririka shook her head, stepping up beside him with slow yet sure steps. She paused for a moment before voicing out her thoughts, however, not wanting to jump on him. She could tell he was afraid, but not in the way most people would define fear. It was comprised more of reluctance than the desire to run away; he seemed to want to step in, but just not yet. When she saw him raise his head slightly, his gaze no longer on the floor, she decided it was the right time to talk. "You've always been part of the Tobita Club, Takeshi, even when you were our greatest enemy. You know that as much as I do."

She smiled, recalling how, nearly a year ago, Takeshi had left the team in the hands of Kouya – left it in shambles – and how it had helped make the younger Marino a winner. The young man was someone whose plans were not easy to comprehend, and in the same way, she found herself baffled at his decision to rejoin the team he had turned on as an enemy. Not that she didn't want him to; he was her other best friend aside from Yuhya, after all.

"But I'll never blend in with them," he continued to protest, allowing his gaze to wander around helplessly for someone or something to come into his defense. But there was nobody else in the premises but the two of them, and the only thing that served as a reminder of how things were in the past was the poster of Yuhya holding the Asia Cup trophy high above his head. It didn't make much of a difference. "They're not Yuhya, Alex and Shingo. They're people I haven't worked with, but rather, worked _against_."

"I never said it was going to be easy, starting over in a team you were once the boss. As much as I would like to make things a lot easier for you, I can't. But I know you can do it. I've seen you do much harder things; compared to being the greatest thorn in Kouya's life, this will be a piece of cake. Some of them might not like you and openly display that, Takeshi, but they know you're a Gear Fighter they can trust out there. Even Kuroudo realizes that much."

Right on target. She really was his best friend. But he chose to drop the subject altogether, knowing that dwelling on it will only bring up pride-breaking revelations that he really didn't want to get into just yet, and pulled out the necklace he had bought from the merchant Mr. Isuji earlier that day. "Here. I got something for you."

She gasped. "Oh… that's so… so beautiful… I… you're really giving me that?"

Takeshi nodded with a smile, moving forward to put it on her, but the door suddenly flew open and an extremely cheerful, "Good afternoon!" resonated inside the clubhouse. Reflexively, he thrust the necklace into her palm instead to avoid displaying any more gestures of affection, knowing that Jirou, who admired Ririka to a great extent, might easily mistake those to be something more than friendly. He then turned around to regard the newcomers, who weren't just members of the Tobita Club, but his soon-to-be comrades. He felt himself shiver.

The captain was quick to notice and acknowledge his presence, however; they had been on friendlier terms ever since the conclusion of the World Cup. And the other three – the Gear Master was not with them for some reason – were polite enough not to treat him as if he was invisible, even though they were clearly apprehensive about the entire idea of him joining in just like that. Even Kuroudo managed a spare a nod towards his direction before going over to Ririka to inform her that Kyousuke was ill.

"Well, guys, let's get this underway. Gears out," he heard the deputy owner of the Tobita Club announce loudly, and he nodded, feeling a bit more relaxed than he was when he first arrived. He put down his bag and took out his Gear, _Gaiki_, and Kouya, who had settled down on the bench right next to his, let out a teasing smile as he held _Garuda Phoenix _up. The gesture made something spark from within the young man; the brunette had just executed a move Yuhya had done so many times in the past. It felt like the old times.

But he soon tensed, though not visibly but still to a great extent, as soon as Ririka's next sentences reached his ears. It didn't feel like the old times anymore.

"Kaoru, referee's post please," she requested before turning to address the players with the smile she always sported. As much as she wanted to introduce Takeshi and provide him with his own special zone in the team, she didn't like the idea of treating him differently just because he was her best friend. He had been in the Tobita Club much longer than the other three, and so she was confident that he knew how things were run. "Alright, guys, listen up. The organizers of the Tokyo Open have decided to use the tag-team format to level up the playing field with our European rivals, and since Kyousuke has chosen to concentrate on becoming a full-fledged Gear Master, you'll need to regroup. As much as possible I want you to come up with a combination that requires the least adjustments."

"I'll go with Takeshi. I've studied his tactics and his Gear already, just as he has studied mine. Besides, it'll be a killer combination. The phoenix and the dragon, just imagine that! Shining Sword Breaker and King of the Dragon Fighters! We'll be unbeatable!" Kouya exclaimed enthusiastically, beaming. His suggestion was so quick that it didn't seem like he was affected by the tag-team arrangement at all.

"Well, I like the sound of that. And the fact that you two aren't trying to destroy each other anymore, it's really a relief. Alright, Kuroudo, let's go." The former baseball player grinned at the blonde, but stopped as soon as he noticed the other's frown. "What's wrong? Don't like having me as your team partner? Look, I know I'm not as good as Kyousuke and I don't know you as much as he does-"

Kuroudo shook his head. "No, Jirou. That's not it." He shifted his position slightly, sweeping his gaze from one companion to the other. Takeshi was no exception, as much as he disliked having the conceited Manganji brat around. He then continued, "Didn't Ririka just say that it would be best to have a combination with the least adjustments? This arrangement, while seemingly advantageous, is actually very cumbersome. All of us will be adjusting." He waved his hand before Kouya could interrupt. "I know, I know, you know Takeshi's moves and he knows yours. But both of you will still have to adjust."

"What do you suggest, then?" It seemed to have wounded Kouya's pride that someone objected to his brilliant proposal, when in fact he was the captain of the team, and that someone was merely under his command. The blonde wasn't even close to becoming assistant captain, as much as he had the experience in running a team.

The half-French Gear Fighter answered his glare with one just as fierce, but it lasted for only a moment, just enough for it to be seen by their stubborn, bigheaded captain. He then resumed taking up his nonchalant front, cocking his head to the side slightly to regard everyone else in the premises and replied in his always-sure tone, "The least number of possible adjustments would be two. That would be me," he paused to point at Takeshi, "and him."

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**Author's Notes: **There you go, another chapter for this crossover. I apologize for the delay, blame it on school as well as CGT/DBZ deprivation, but I do hope you enjoyed it. Please review, thank you!


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